


Who needs love?

by ioweyouaphonebox



Category: Story - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-30
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-16 17:05:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/864457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ioweyouaphonebox/pseuds/ioweyouaphonebox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a story that was made from pure boredom</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who needs love?

**Author's Note:**

> Jasmine wrote this, not me.

As you get older, you’ll come across cheesy quotes and sayings that make you want to cringe in disgust. For example, a picture on Facebook with little hearts sprinkled around the border with one of those cheesy sayings in a “Comic Sans” font right in the middle of the picture, or a stupid love sick teenager who decides to post a status, which to them, is extremely intellectual- mostly because they didn't come up with themselves- such as “Love is Blind” with a paragraph underneath of their experience like “OMG MY CRUSH LOOKED AT ME AND LIKE MY EYES WENT BLURRY AND I SAW HEAVEN- Luv iz truelee blynd.”  
And then you think to yourself- Honestly, is this the generation I grew up in? Or an even better thought- What have your parents been teaching you?  
Then the palm of your hand slowly comes up to cover your face in shame and embarrassment for the poor individual- ULTIMATE FACEPALM.  
However, regardless of the idiocies that comes with the overly used saying, perhaps its right to say that everyone is entitled to their own opinion.  
My mother’s opinion was one she certainly came to live by, “Love comes in any form- any shape and size.” She’d say.  
And that was my cue to reply with the most intelligent answer I could muster at the time, during a mother to daughter talk-  
“A square?”  
And I knew she truly loved me when she muttered under her breath, “What have I raised?”  
As opposed to my mother, my father had his own opinions on that subject. And this is what he told me at the age of eight:  
“Love is like the transformation of a caterpillar to a butterfly” he began. I smiled because I had thought that this was going to turn into one of those inspirational stories.  
“Firstly, the caterpillar wraps itself in a cocoon,” he says, whilst pouring some juice into his small cup.  
“It is filled with warmth, like a blanket. This is like love; it’s warm and happy to begin with. But then the transformation takes place within the little caterpillars bubble that keeps it locked away from reality,” his voice dropped down an octave lower.  
“Pain happens.” He bluntly states. “This is like the first stages of love, I suppose. First it’s all happy-go-lucky, then comes all the fights and make ups. And this all happens before it can transform into something truly beautiful.”  
I close my eyes again, trying to savour his words of wisdom. I hear him gulp down the drink and pour himself more juice.  
“Butterflies are beautiful, don’t you think, Venny?”  
I nod my head in agreement, smiling up at him while he’s still drinking.  
“As is love,” He said.  
He looked around the kitchen as if searching for something, I thought he’d given up until he suddenly turned to me and asked,  
“Do you know the lifespan of a small blue butterfly, Ven?”  
I shook my head in response, but told I liked the colour blue. He laughed.  
“The lifespan of a small blue butterfly is like love,” he slurs, pouring himself yet another. “A few days… Then the pretty blue butterfly dies, decays and rots away!” He roars in laughter, slamming his fist onto the table. “That’s love, honey. You know, if it even exists.” He took a long look at my stunned expression before he picked up his last drink and took swig from the bottle.  
“Fairy tales my arse.” He muttered.  
And that was how my childhood was ruined.  
I do sometimes wonder how I could mistake apple juice for liquor. You can’t exactly blame him for telling me something like that. I mean, it was only a few days after their marriage crumbled due to an affair.  
So I’d start my story off with a happy lovey dovey quote, but you can see why I can’t. I have no opinion on that subject matter, and even if I did, it wouldn’t be valid due to my lack of experience. And you’d probably expect me to prove my opinion valid, like a status on “Facebook” by a stupid teenager or on “Twitter” or whatever your social preference is- I really don’t care.  
And so here we begin my story. Oh, and I’m Venny. Short for “Venus”- as in the Roman Goddess of Love, and you could see how ironic it is. It’s an ugly name. So with that said, we shall begin.

**Author's Note:**

> Tell her what you guys think. Add comments and I will pass them down to her.z


End file.
